Almost a Kiss
by wildcat7898
Summary: Uhura welcomes Spock back to the Enterprise after the year he spent raising Saavik. This takes place after the events described in "A Woman's Touch" and "The Taste of Snow."
1. Chapter 1

Title: Almost a Kiss

Author: Wildcat

Series: TOS

Part: 1/8

Rating: MA

Codes: S/U

Summary: Uhura welcomes Spock back to the Enterprise after the year he spent raising Saavik. This takes place after the events described in A Woman's Touch and The Taste of Snow, and it is followed by You Would Even Say She Glows.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, and company. I have just borrowed them for a while and will not profit from this.

Feedback is desired. Please feel free to let me know what you think.

This story won 2nd place for "Spock Romance" in the 1998 ASC Awards.

Almost a Kiss, Chapter 1

"...and you should have seen the look on his face when she downed the whole glass in one gulp!"

"But that was the most expensive cognac on the menu! I spent four days' worth of credits on that one meal."

"C'mon Pavel, that's not true."

"It is! She ordered Aldeberan shellfish just for her appetizer, Hikaru. Bozhe moi. When you said that she was a lady of fine taste, I didn't think you meant that everything she wanted to taste would be expensive. Your date only ate a salad-"

"She wasn't my date! Remember? You must be trying to kill me, because I'll be a dead man if Susan ever hears you say that. Besides..."

Uhura smiled absently as she listened to the back-and-forth banter between Chekov and Sulu. They'd begged her to join them this evening in the officers' lounge so that she could hear all about their shore leave exploits, but to be truthful her mind wasn't really on the conversation. A small crowd had gathered around their table, and everyone was laughing now at something that she had missed entirely. She laughed along, pretending to understand the joke.

"...and that's when we decided to call it a night. We couldn't believe it when we ran into both women the next day at the beach..."

Leaning back in her seat, she tried to picture where Spock might be right now. It was probably safe to assume that Saavik had settled into her new home without any problems. Spock and Uhura had both dreaded the day when Saavik would have to go away to school, but the last message Uhura had received from the little girl was surprisingly upbeat, and Spock had reported that she was showing significant interest in the prospect of a new adventure. So, if his departure from Gamma Cygnus had been uneventful yesterday, he was probably halfway to the Enterprise by now. Too bad the Darwin had been scheduled to leave Starbase Four before he arrived, or he could have caught a ride and already been here.

She gazed out the observation port and wondered what tomorrow would be like. Commander Juarez had been a very competent first officer, and they were all lucky that someone of his caliber had been available to fill in while Spock was gone, but of course it just wasn't the same. Everyone was excited about having him back. Why, Admiral Kirk had been so tightly wound all day that she wondered how he'd managed to make it through his watch, and even Dr. McCoy hadn't been able to hide his pleasure. And as for herself, well... A small, private smile curled her lips as she thought about what it would be like to have Spock back on board, and her heart beat a little faster with anticipation.

"Nyota. Nyota! Enterprise to Nyota. Please come in, Nyota."

She grinned with embarrassment. "Oh, sorry Pavel. I guess that my mind was wandering."

He frowned at her in mock consternation. "What are we going to do with you? Maybe we should pour you another drink!"

Laughing, she said, "That sounds like a good idea! Thank you."

She clinked her glass against Chekov's as he launched into another tall tale.

...

Pleased that he had been able to rearrange his travel plans, Spock picked up his duffel and stepped onto the transporter pad of the Darwin. He had not expected to arrive at Starbase Four this morning and learn that the Darwin's departure had been delayed. Indeed, it was fortunate that he had elected to travel lightly, for the ship had been only moments from leaving, and he would have missed the connection if he had been forced to deal with transferring more than just his person aboard. This arrangement was considerably more efficient than his original travel plans, which would have entailed slower transport and another stop. His earlier arrival aboard the Enterprise would allow for a much more productive use of his time tomorrow. And although he was reluctant to admit it to himself, he was also pleased that he would not have to wait another day to see his friends.

He addressed the man who stood before him. "Thank you for your hospitality, Captain. I have found my time aboard your ship to be quite agreeable."

"It was my pleasure. Please give Admiral Kirk my regards."

"I shall do so. Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life, Commander. Energize."

Spock stood patiently as the transporter room of the Darwin was replaced by the transporter room of the Enterprise. It was illogical that these walls would appear so familiar to him since they were essentially identical to the walls of the Darwin, but nevertheless he experienced a sense of satisfaction at the sight. Equally satisfying was the vision of Admiral Kirk and Dr. McCoy moving toward him, broad smiles on both faces.

"Welcome home, Spock!"

"Thank you, Admiral. I am quite content to be here."

Dr. McCoy shook his head. "What is it with you and dramatic entrances? We weren't expecting you until tomorrow. I couldn't believe it when Jim got the call from the bridge that you were here! Things must have worked out better than you planned."

"Indeed, Doctor, they did."

Walking toward the door, Kirk said, "Well, let's get you to your quarters so you can get rid of that bag. Is that all you brought?"

Spock fell into step beside Kirk as they left the transporter room. "The remainder of my possessions should arrive in two days. Saavik chose to take considerably more than I had anticipated with her to Gamma Cygnus, so in the end it was less complicated for me to simply ship my own belongings."

Chuckling, McCoy said, "So how is the little squirt? Do you think she's going to survive going off to her new school?"

"Undoubtedly she will be fine, although I am less certain as to whether her schoolmates will survive the experience. When I left, she was stubbornly attempting to convince two young girls to climb out on the roof with her so that she could determine the most direct path to the city park. Although I informed her that there were more effective ways of planning one's route, it is my belief that she was only waiting for my exit before she carried out her plan."

"I just hope her two little companions aren't faint of heart."

"As do I, Doctor."

"I had a uniform placed in your quarters," said Kirk, "but I see that you already found one. What do you think about the new design?"

Spock glanced down at the rich burgundy of his sleeve. "The quartermaster of the Darwin was kind enough to supply me with this. I did not realize that Command had issued new uniforms. I must say that I find these quite preferable to the previous uniforms, although that is not an extremely telling statement."

Kirk snorted. "None of us were too disappointed when they did away with the old ones. I heard that one of Nogura's first acts as CO was to, and I quote, 'Get rid of the damned pajamas once and for all.'"

"I have always held the belief that Nogura is a wise man and an astute politician."

"I can tell you that this move increased his popularity by at least fifty percent." Kirk halted in the corridor. "Here's your quarters. I know that you'd like to have some time to settle in, but I want to invite you to have a glass of brandy with Bones and me later."

"That would be agreeable, although you are correct when you state that I have some tasks that I wish to complete first. Perhaps at 2100 hours?"

"Sounds great. See you then, my quarters."

...

As Spock pulled the last few items from his duffel bag and carried them into the fresher, he regarded the crates in the corner of his bedroom. He had not expected to find that the personal belongings he left on board during his absence were already here, but Kirk had evidently remembered them and ensured that they were removed from storage. It was a considerate gesture, and he was eager to have everything unpacked and in its place. First, though, there was something more important that he must do.

He strode to the computer.

"Computer. Location of Lieutenant Commander Nyota Uhura."

"Lieutenant Commander Nyota Uhura is currently in the officers' lounge."

He stowed his duffel and left his quarters. He had not taken four steps down the corridor before he met Kirk and McCoy coming from the opposite direction.

"Spock! Were you looking for us? Bones had to run down to sickbay for a minute."

"Actually, Admiral, I was on my way to the officers' lounge to greet... some other members of the senior bridge crew."

"Good idea," Kirk said. "Everyone will be glad to see you."

"Would you care to accompany me?"

Kirk glanced at McCoy. "Bones?"

"Sure. I'll get a kick out of seeing the expressions on their faces when you walk through the door, since I don't think anyone other than me and Jim know that you're on board." McCoy grinned. "Boy, they're going to be surprised."

Spock allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up as he nodded. "Yes. They will be."

...

Wiping away tears and leaning against Scotty, Uhura was laughing so hard that her side was beginning to hurt as she watched Sulu continue his dead-on imitation of Chekov. He was merciless, playing out both sides of the confrontation between their poor friend and the Tellarite he'd unwittingly offended. Sulu had just reached the part where Chekov was sputtering that yes, of course the Tellarite's mate was really very pretty but no, he wasn't flirting with her, when Scotty glanced up toward the lounge door and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, well, look who's here!"

Sulu halted his story as all heads turned in the direction of the door. When Uhura saw who it was, she could only blink, for there stood Spock, flanked by Kirk and McCoy. Straight and tall and almost unbearably handsome in his uniform, he was looking right at her. The remainder of the group waved him over and someone had risen to noisily drag more chairs to the table, but in the midst of all the activity he simply held her eyes. She felt her pulse quicken as the heat rushed to her face.

Slowly, she grinned, and he raised an eyebrow slightly in response.

An instant later, Kirk touched him lightly on the arm and gestured toward the empty chairs, and he looked away. She was amused as she watched him take a seat across from her, for he was obviously uncomfortable to find himself at the center of attention. Bombarded with questions, he glanced at her once more before launching into an explanation of how he had managed to arrive a day early.

As he spoke, she relaxed in her seat and basked in the sound of his rich, deep voice. Remembering how that voice had felt caressing her ear and whispering across her skin, she shivered. Oh, how she wanted to hear that resonant voice vibrate against her again.

...

The noise level had finally quieted down to a polite murmur, and Spock could tell that the five humans who remained around the table were becoming sleepy. It was quite late, much later than the agreed-upon 2100 hours, and when there was a lull in the conversation, he caught Kirk's eye.

Kirk, able to recognize his friend's intent after so many years of non-verbal communication, came to his feet. "I believe I'll call it a night. Spock, are you still up for that glass of brandy?"

"Yes, Admiral, if it is not too late for you."

"No, no, a little glass of brandy will help me sleep. What do you say, Bones? A little bit of brandy before bed? For medicinal purposes?"

"Sounds like a good prescription to me."

"All right. See the rest of you tomorrow."

During their exchange, the remainder of the group had begun to drift away from the table, but Spock noticed that Uhura was hanging back. As Kirk and McCoy headed toward the door to a chorus of goodbyes, he discreetly edged his way over to stand next to her.

"I had hoped to speak with you alone tonight," he murmured.

"I'd like it very much if you came by later."

"It could be as late as midnight."

"That's all right. I'll be up."

From the door, Kirk said, "Spock, you coming?"

"Yes, Admiral."

He nodded at her, and followed Kirk and McCoy out of the room.

...

Trying her best to relax and catch up on her reading, Uhura stuffed another pillow under her feet and leaned back against the arm of her sofa. Although she knew that there was no reason to check the chronometer again-it would show only a few minutes' elapsed time since the last time she looked-she couldn't help but dart a quick glance at the red display on the wall. 1203 hours. Well, Spock had said that it might be close to midnight, and so far he hadn't been wrong.

Her eyes traveled from the chronometer to the entrance of her quarters. Willing the door to signal his arrival, she nearly jumped out of her skin when it chimed. She hastily put down her padd and pushed the pillows back into place, and then stood.

"Come."

The door opened to reveal Spock standing hesitantly in her doorway.

"Hello, Nyota. I regret that I am somewhat later than I had anticipated. Is this an inconvenient time?"

"No, not at all. Come on in." She gestured toward the sofa. "Have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

"That would be most appreciated."

As she busied herself preparing the tea, she spoke over her shoulder. "How did Saavik react to your leaving her yesterday?"

"Quite well, actually. As the time grew closer for me to depart, it became apparent that I was uneasier with our impending separation than she was. I took care to keep our goodbyes very casual, but I must confess that I found it difficult to say farewell and walk out the door."

Uhura chuckled. "Ah, the trials of parenthood. My sister said that one of the toughest days of her life was the day she had to leave her son at preschool. He couldn't wait for her to go, but it just about killed her. Now he's all grown up with a girlfriend of his own, and she says that she should have just locked the door that day and never let him leave."

"Such an attitude is illogical, for it is the responsibility of a parent or guardian to encourage the child to grow beyond the boundaries of home."

"Which I'm sure is exactly what you've been telling yourself for the last month."

He raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps."

She carried the two cups of tea to the sofa, and then sat down and handed one of them to him. "Here you go. Just the way you like it."

"Thank you."

They sipped their tea quietly for a few moments.

"Nyota, I am curious about something."

"Yes?"

"You speak frequently of your sister, but I know very little about her, other than that she is older than you and she lives in London. I assume from your earlier comment that she has a family. Do you remain in close contact with her?"

"Oh yes, I do, although I haven't seen her for over a year. It's funny that we fought like cats and dogs when we were together, but now that I hardly ever see her I miss her terribly. She and her husband have been trying to talk me into coming to visit, but they're just as busy as I am and the time never seems to be right. She's a terrific person, fun and bubbly. She's also very well learned and intelligent. You'd probably really like her."

"I have no doubt that I would, particularly if she is anything like you."

Uhura met his eyes quickly, surprised and delighted by his comment. "I'm so glad you're back."

"I am pleased to be back."

They gazed at each other until he turned toward the low table in front of the sofa. She watched curiously as he put down his teacup, and then took her cup from her hand and set it next to his.

He faced her again. "What do you know of Vulcan courtship rituals?"

Caught off guard by his question, it took her a moment to formulate an answer. "Not much. Maybe someone needs to teach me."

"Perhaps someone will." Reaching for her right hand, he bent her thumb, fourth, and fifth fingers toward her palm. "Extend your index and middle fingers like this." He demonstrated.

"Oh, yes, I saw your parents touch fingers this way when they came on board that time."

"That was the public version of the k'ley'a, the ritual embrace that is demonstrated between bonded mates. What I am planning to show you is something more private. Although Vulcans typically do not kiss in the same manner in which humans do, you could say that this is almost the equivalent."

"For a member of a society that typically doesn't kiss, you didn't seem to have any problems."

"Ah... I have been offworld for many years and have benefited from, that is to say, have been exposed, ah, to various cultures... Nyota, do you desire to learn about this or not?"

Inwardly amused at his discomfort, she quickly held up her fingers like he'd shown her and looked at him expectantly.

He pressed his hand gently against hers. When he withdrew it after only a couple of seconds, her first reaction was to be slightly disappointed, but she studied his face and recognized the tenderness in his expression.

"So that was almost a kiss," she said softly.

He nodded.

"Was it the Vulcan equivalent of a peck on the cheek?"

"If we are to continue the analogy between the k'ley'a and a kiss, then yes, that would be an apt comparison."

"And like a kiss, it can be simple, or it can be not simple?"

He regarded her for a moment before raising both eyebrows and nodding.

"Yes," he said.

She smiled, thinking ahead to what else he might show her, but before she could comment he stood.

"It is the end of a very long day for me, Nyota, and I must go."

They walked slowly to the door and stopped, facing one another.

"So I guess I'll see you in the morning, Spock."

"Yes. Sleep well."

He turned to leave, but before he could trigger the sensors that would open the door, she halted him by placing her hand on his arm.

"Before you go, I'd like to demonstrate a human courtship ritual. I know that you're not completely unfamiliar with it, but you may not know about the context."

Placing a hand on each side of his face, she pulled him down and kissed him carefully on the lips, and then backed away. When he tilted his head and studied her, she said, "The goodnight kiss."

"Ah. I see. Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

Watching him stride out the door, she took a deep breath, shook her head, and smiled_. Vulcan courtship rituals_. Nice to know that she was being courted. Very nice. A bit of a step back from where they had been when she left Dantria, but that was all right. If Spock wanted to take it slowly, then they'd take it slowly.

As she wandered back to her bedroom, though, she thought about how she'd felt when she looked up and saw him standing at the door to the officer's lounge earlier.

Well, maybe he wouldn't take it too slowly.

End chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Almost a Kiss, chapter 2

Spock sat at his computer and scanned the backlog of reports, memos, and miscellaneous documents that had accumulated during his year-long sabbatical. Raising an eyebrow at the inefficient quantity of paperwork Starfleet Command expected its officers to process, he moved the pointer around on his screen until he had flagged 73.2 percent of the entries on the list.

"Computer. Eliminate marked items."

"Working. Marked items have been deleted."

There. That was more acceptable. As he pulled up the first memo, a description of some of the personnel changes that had been made within the deep-space assignment division at headquarters, he allowed another portion of his brain to take a different path.

His first task upon returning to his quarters after his evening meal had been to empty the crates in the corner of the room. Carefully restoring his personal items to their proper places, he had remembered the day he packed them and his apprehension at leaving the Enterprise to care for Saavik. Although he had known at the time that his life would change, he had not realized to what extent. And he had not even considered that the changes might be permanent.

Deleting the current document, he pulled up the next and began reading an analysis of the recent alliance between the Orions and a minor royal house on Kzinth.

Saavik still insisted that someday she would join Starfleet and be on the Enterprise with him. Each time the subject came up, he was cautious to point out that she was much too young to have narrowed her horizons to such an extent, that there were many opportunities available to young cadets and the chances of her being assigned to the Enterprise were exceedingly slim, and that he himself could very well be somewhere else by then. Nevertheless, he could not help but be pleased at the thought.

Mentally noting that the analyst who had written the report on the Orion/Kzinth alliance was the same person who had erroneously reported that the Orions had acquired cloaking technology from the Romulans, Spock accessed the next document and saw that it was, indeed, a retraction of the previous report. He forged on.

Another unanticipated change that Saavik had brought was his involvement with Uhura. Although it was possible that he and Uhura would have come to view one another differently over time even without Saavik's presence in his life, he thought it unlikely.

He nodded as he perused the memo before him. Fascinating. The plans for the new Excelsior class starship had been approved.

Earlier in the evening, he and Admiral Kirk had spent some time in the gym and subsequently dined together. Although he had been gratified to find that he and the admiral had fallen into their usual routine as if he had never been gone, he had also been somewhat disappointed to discover that he had missed Uhura at dinner.

The next document was a survey intended to gather his opinion of the new uniforms. Hardly a pressing matter. He filed it away for later action.

In the end, he had briefly returned to the bridge to ensure that the newest member of his science team understood which diagnostics were to be run each night, and he had encountered Uhura in the lift afterwards. Although she was en route to the gym, herself, she had indicated that she would be back in her quarters in two hours and had invited him to join her for a late cup of tea. It was unfortunate that he had been forced to decline due to the quantity of work that he knew he had to complete tonight.

He quickly read and discarded three documents that scheduled and rescheduled the same conference at Starbase Two, and then another that contained the minutes from that meeting. He did not know how he had missed deleting those earlier.

Uhura was surely back in her quarters by now. Perhaps she had prepared herself some tea and was relaxing with a book. Or perhaps she was catching up on her paperwork just as he was. Of course, it was possible that she was not in her quarters at all, having instead chosen to search out companionship.

Ah, now this memo was more interesting. The faculty at Starfleet Academy had begun collecting suggestions for a new course designed to foster creativity in command. Checking the distribution list, he saw that neither he nor Admiral Kirk had been included in the original mailing, and that he, himself, had only received it because an acquaintance of his at the Academy had sent it. Attaching a few comments of his own, he forwarded it to Kirk. If anyone would have suggestions on this, it would be the admiral.

He had noticed while on the bridge earlier that Uhura's day had been particularly busy. Maybe she had already gone to bed.

Intriguing. Commander Styles had been promoted to captain. He would be curious to see what type of command Styles was actually given.

It was not that late, however. She was probably still awake.

Just as he opened the next memo, his computer signaled that he had an incoming personal message. Marking his place in the current document, he checked the new message and raised both eyebrows.

Saavik.

Without even reading it, he transferred it to a data wafer and left his quarters with the wafer in his hand.

...

Uhura sat on her sofa just as she had the night before and tried to read her book. Realizing that she had just reached the end of the chapter but didn't remember what it said, she sighed and glanced at her chronometer. 2218 hours. Although she knew that she was acting like an adolescent, she looked at her door and willed it to signal just as it had last night. She actually slung the padd halfway across the room when it did.

Damn! She'd almost had a heart attack. Shaking her head at her own silliness, she stood and made sure that her caftan was closed to a level that at least resembled respectability. Now, who could it be? Maybe Scotty had come by to try to talk her into a nightcap.

"Come."

She couldn't believe her eyes when the door opened to reveal Spock.

He seemed even more hesitant than he had the night before. "Forgive me for disturbing you, but I just received a message from Saavik and thought that you might wish to hear it."

Recovering quickly, she smiled and ushered him in. "Oh, I'd love to! How's she doing? Does she have a lot to report?"

"I have not heard it yet, myself."

"Well, then pull an extra chair up to my computer and we'll listen to it."

Settling themselves at her desk, he inserted the small wafer in the slot, and Saavik's bright face appeared on the screen.

"Greetings, Spock. My first three days here have been very busy! After you left, we went to the park. There were many children there, but they did not seem to be doing more than running aimlessly about and making much noise. After the park, we walked to the school so that I could see it. It was closed, though, and Rosa and Elizabeth would not climb over the fence with me so I did not get to see much. The two stupid boys on Dantria had told me that it would be scary-looking, but I did not think it looked scary, not even a little bit!

"Yesterday, Margaret took us to the mountains and we walked for a long time. Except for the birds, the only little animal we saw was a snake, but Margaret made me let it go. Elizabeth got tired and complained too much, but I did not. Margaret said that sometime she will bring just me so that we can explore all day, and I told her that I would like that.

"Today I learned something very surprising. Rosa and Elizabeth have two stupid boys who live near them! I told them that it is quite a coincidence that they have two stupid boys like I did, and I calculated the odds against such an occurrence." Saavik's expression was smug as she said this. "Rosa and Elizabeth told the two stupid boys to go away, but they would not. They boasted that they had a tree house! I did not believe them so they showed me, and it was not a house at all. I told them that I would help them make a real house in their tree, so tomorrow we will begin their new tree house. Well, we will begin after school. Tomorrow is my very first day of school! My teacher is named Mr. Thras, and he is Andorian! I have never met an Andorian before.

"It is time for me to go to bed. I wished to record a message for Nyota, too, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Tell her that there are many flowers in the park, but that they are not as colorful as the ones on Dantria.

"Saavik out."

Uhura sat back in relief. "It sounds like Saavik is really enjoying herself. I'm so glad."

"I must admit that my own concern has lessened after listening to her message."

He ejected the wafer and moved as if to stand, but she placed her fingertips on his arm.

"Will you stay for a cup of tea?"

"I still have a considerable amount of work ahead of me tonight."

"A small cup of tea?"

Obviously amused, he relented. "Very well. A small cup of tea."

She grinned and pointed toward the sofa, "Make yourself comfortable. It doesn't take any time at all to make a small cup of tea."

Quickly heating the water, she put the teabags in as he seated himself on the sofa. "How was your first day back?" she asked.

"Rather uneventful. I have been quite impressed with the fact that Commander Juarez left everything in such precise order."

"Yes, he did a good job. Did you notice that he reconfigured your science board?"

"Indeed I did."

"So, how long before you put it back the way it was?"

"I have already done so."

She chuckled and brought the two cups of tea over to the sofa.

"I meant to ask you yesterday about the family that Saavik is staying with. Do you think they'll be tolerant with her?"

Although she had tried to keep her voice neutral, she could tell by Spock's expression that he had picked up on her worry. She quickly amended her statement. "I mean, I'm not questioning your judgment, and I know that you wouldn't have left her with someone you didn't trust, but-"

He raised a hand. "Nyota, I do not object to your asking this. It is a reasonable query, and I know that you bring it up only out of concern for Saavik. I am entirely confident that these people will treat her well. I have known Margaret Santos since my youth. She is the child of an old friend of my mother's. She and her husband are teachers at the school, and they have two daughters, ages thirteen and ten. Are you reassured?"

"Yes, thank you." She paused to sip her tea. "It's just that Saavik is sometimes, well, not easy."

"Sometimes?"

"Okay, often. But I guess you know that better than anyone."

"I certainly do. You may be interested to know that Margaret, herself, was considered a rather difficult child. I clearly remember overhearing a conversation one day between her mother and mine that covered that very subject, and that I am certain was not intended for my ears."

"How old were you?"

"I was five years old, so Margaret would have been seven. Evidently she had been told not to go to a nearby creek with a group of older children, but she had done so despite her mother's instructions and had then fallen in. Because she knew that she would be disciplined, she sneaked back into the house, changed her clothes, and hid them in a tightly sealed storage bin that contained, among other items, her parents' wedding holos. Her mother discovered the still-wet garments approximately three weeks later when they became fragrant."

Uhura leaned back on the sofa so that her head was near his shoulder. "Oh my, what a mess!"

"I am certain that it was. However, that is not the end of the story. Being quite young, myself, I had not yet learned the value of discretion so repeated what I had heard to Margaret. This led to a description of the forbidden creek, and of course I was intrigued. We slipped out the front door, intending only to view the creek and return, but as I am certain you can surmise, by the end of the day we were both wet and very muddy. That is when I learned what it meant to be 'grounded.'"

"Margaret sounds like someone who will understand Saavik."

"As she told me after meeting Saavik, she anticipates that she will come away from this experience with a better appreciation of her own mother."

Uhura smiled and watched Spock as he finished his tea. She had been fascinated by the subtle traces of humor that had played across his face during his recounting of this story from his childhood, and she could see that it had awakened other memories. Someday she would ask him to tell her more, but at the moment she just wanted to look at him.

For a long moment neither spoke. Finally, he said, "Interesting. I have always recalled that incident with great discomfort, yet I was able to view it from a new perspective as I described it to you."

"I enjoyed hearing about it."

"It is easy to talk to you, Nyota."

"Good," she whispered, "because I could listen to you forever."

He swallowed and studied her face, and then slowly held his hand up like he had shown her last night. She remembered what he had told her. _The k'ley'a_. His eyes were very dark. As if in a trance, she held her hand up to match his.

He carefully pressed his hand to hers. Never breaking eye contact, he ran his fingertips down the length of her fingers and barely into her palm, and then turned his hand around and brushed back out to her fingertips with his knuckles. His movements graceful and rhythmic, he did it again. Again. His breathing was loud in her ears. Again.

She felt her respiration quicken as his caresses grew broader and he ran his fingers down to her wrist, stroking the soft skin of her inner arm, and back up. The gesture was uncomplicated and almost innocent, but she'd never known anything so erotic in its very simplicity. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing the warmth that was growing deep in her belly. When she looked at him again, she could tell by his expression that he was aroused, too.

Changing his approach slightly, he stroked the back of her hand, exploring the tiny valleys between her knuckles, and the small bone that protruded from the side of her wrist. Finally, though, he pulled his hand away and folded his fingers gently into his palm.

"I really must return to my quarters," he said, his voice rough.

"Okay. But if you don't hurry, I may not let you."

"Is that a threat or an invitation?"

Laughing softly, she said, "A promise."

He nodded and stood. They walked slowly to the door, but he stopped before the door opened.

"Would you care to dine with me tomorrow night?"

"Yes, I'd love that."

He nodded again, and then leaned close and kissed her on the lips.

"Goodnight, Nyota."

"Goodnight."

After he left, she stood for a moment and tried to slow her racing heart. Oh my. It wasn't going to be easy to fall asleep tonight.

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Almost a Kiss, chapter 3

As he surveyed the empty expanse of tabletop, Spock wondered what had possessed him to invite Uhura to dine here in his quarters. Actually, his original intent had been to join her in the dining hall, but when they spoke earlier today he had surmised that she assumed they would dine privately. Which, of course, was a much better arrangement, but one that he now found rather disquieting.

Perhaps the logical first step would be to plan a menu. It should not be too difficult. He was familiar with her likes and dislikes, and he knew that she would not wish to eat a large meal so late in the evening. He seated himself at his computer and began surveying his choices, limiting the list to a vegetarian diet and sorting it in alphabetical order.

Artichokes. With butter? Hollandaise sauce? He couldn't help but grimace slightly at the second option. Maybe asparagus. White, or green? Chilled or warm? Butter? Hollandaise sauce? Frowning, he wondered why humans insisted on ruining good vegetables with heavy sauces. At'kir. That was a possibility, although Vulcan vegetables tended to be a bit bland to human palates. Beans: green, lima, sprouts. He sighed. This should not be such a complicated task. Indeed, he and she had dined together three times a day while she was on Dantria. Generally they had prepared it together, but it was not unusual for him to have done it by himself, and he had even been cooking it and not simply instructing a computer.

Arbitrarily deciding to offer an array of chilled, marinated vegetables and a heavy brown bread, his next task was to set the table. He had happened to visit Kirk's quarters on several occasions when the admiral was entertaining, so he had a precise mental image of what would be appropriate. Soon the table was arranged to his liking, and he set out the large platter of vegetables and the bread. As an afterthought, he added some small slices of melon to serve as an appetizer.

Ah, something else he had noticed when in the admiral's quarters those times was the music playing in the background. He had also seen that the lights were set very low. Although the dim lighting was rather excessive, in his opinion, some unobtrusive music would be enjoyable.

"Computer, play Concerto in A minor, Opus 3, No. 8 by Antonio Vivaldi."

Just as the opening notes floated through the air, his door chimed. He took a quick survey of his quarters to assure himself that everything was in its place, and then tugged on the hem of his uniform jacket and faced the door.

"Come."

When the door slid open and Uhura stepped into the room, the first thing he noticed was how the brightness of her smile contrasted with the rich, brown smoothness of her skin. The second thing he noticed was that she was hiding something fairly bulky under her jacket.

"Hi, Spock."

"Greetings, Nyota." He tilted his head, trying to ascertain what she was holding. "Please come in."

She walked to the table. "Oh, this looks wonderful. I, um, brought a little something to go with it. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I am very curious as to what you have smuggled into my room underneath your jacket."

She grinned and held up a bottle of white wine. "Well, I didn't want to be indiscreet. Do you drink wine?"

"Not often, but I am willing to have some tonight."

"Great!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a corkscrew. "All I need now are the glasses."

He retrieved two glasses without comment while she opened the bottle. When she had poured the wine, they picked up their glasses and faced one another.

"So, Spock, to what will we toast?" she asked seductively.

He thought about it for a moment. "To old friendships and new discoveries."

"And unexpected surprises."

They tapped their glasses together and drank, not looking away from one another. When she lowered her wine, she licked a few droplets from her upper lip, and he thought that he had never seen anything quite so inviting. He leaned close and kissed her gently. She tasted faintly of wine.

Capturing her free hand in his own, he took a step closer and bent toward her again. She turned her face up in anticipation, her eyes fluttered shut, and-

_beep_

Blinking, he straightened and moved to his computer. He took a moment to compose himself before hitting the switch.

"Spock here."

"Commander Spock, you are needed on the bridge."

"On my way." When he disconnected, he looked at Uhura and took a heavy breath. "I am sorry, Nyota. Perhaps this will be unimportant."

"Oh, I hope-"

_beep_

"Shit." Uhura lifted her communicator. "Uhura here."

"Commander Uhura, you are needed on the bridge."

"I'll be there in a moment. Uhura out."

She picked up the bottle of wine and jammed the cork back into it. "We can't do anything about all this food, but we can at least keep the wine cool in case this is quick."

"An excellent idea."

Within seconds, they had left his quarters and were on their way to the bridge.

...

"Mmmm, Sulu, please, no more coffee. I might float away."

Uhura slumped with her head on her hand and peered blearily across the table at Sulu. It was probably a good thing that she didn't have enough energy to move, because if she did she was afraid that she might just have to reach out and smack him. No one had the right to be so chipper after pulling an all-nighter on the bridge.

From next to her, Admiral Kirk said, "If she doesn't want that, I do. I can't believe we stayed up all night for what turned out to be a false intelligence report. I wish I could find out who came up with the outlandish idea that the Klingons had ventured all the way into this sector."

She rolled her eyes and nodded. Probably the same person who wrote that report about the Orions and the Kzinth.

Sulu stood. "I told Emerson that I'd relieve him in four hours, so I guess I should try to get some sleep."

Rubbing his face, Kirk said, "Good idea. I'm going, too. Sure you don't want this coffee, Uhura?"

"It's all yours."

Kirk turned to Spock. "Will you take the con for a while?"

"Yes, Admiral. I have no need for sleep at the moment. You may rest as long as you wish."

Picking up the coffee cup, Kirk said, "First I have to fill out a report describing what a fruitful night we had. Then maybe some of this coffee will be out of my bloodstream, and I'll try to rest. See you later."

Uhura twisted her head just enough to watch the others walk away, and then looked at Spock and smiled. "That wasn't exactly the kind of night I had in mind."

"Nor I."

"How about you come to my quarters for dinner tonight to make up for it? Say at 2000 hours?"

"I would find that agreeable."

"It's a date." She stood and started to walk away, but then leaned close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Bring the wine."

Glancing over her shoulder on her way to the door, she caught his eye and grinned. She couldn't wait until tonight.

End chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Almost a Kiss, chapter 4

Spock studied Kirk as they circled one another on the mat. Judging by the way he flexed his right arm, it would be logical to deduce that Kirk was going to attempt the k'eya, one of the most basic moves in the ch'a art of self-defense. Every Vulcan child was expected to have mastered it by the age of seven, yet it was highly effective if used when one's opponent was not expecting it. Of course, if one's opponent _was_ expecting it, it could easily be countered with the k'len'ta and turned to the opponent's advantage.

Kirk lunged, and Spock decided at the last moment not to employ the k'len'ta, instead dodging the attack and setting up for the next. It turned out to be a wise move, because Kirk had obviously anticipated that Spock would use the k'len'ta and was left slightly off-balance.

"You caught me, Spock. But you won't next time."

"We shall see."

Kirk grinned, and they circled again. As Spock watched, he planned the next series of moves. If he could lure Kirk into the t'chel, the k'ea'la, and finally the sa'kra sequence, this match would be over in 1.3 minutes and he would be exactly on schedule to prepare for his meal with Uhura.

She had asked him to bring the wine, so he must be certain not only to bring that but to pick up the corkscrew she had left in his quarters last night. It was unfortunate that he had been forced to discard the food they had not been able to consume, but he was pleased that she had thought to preserve the wine. He had only sampled a small taste of it, but the flavor had been quite agreeable, and the trace that had lingered on her lips when he surprised himself by kissing her had been most intriguing.

Spock saw the opening for which he had been waiting and lunged, but Kirk parried and they retreated to their defensive postures again.

Perhaps he would kiss her again tonight as they sipped their wine, and he could explore this fascinating combination of sensory stimuli. Her lips had been so very soft, even softer than he had remembered from their experiences on Dantria. And her hands... her fingers were not overly long, but they were skillful, and the skin on the back of her hand had been as smooth as the skin on her-

_whump_

Spock felt the air rush from his lungs as he landed flat on his back. From his new vantage point, he looked up at Kirk standing over him and observed the triumphant smile on the human's face.

"Spock, where the hell were you? I've tried that move on you a hundred times before, and I've never been able to catch you off-guard."

Pushing himself to a sitting position, he decided that this would be the appropriate time for an evasive answer. "I have not done this for over a year, Jim. It would seem that I am rather out of practice." Not a lie.

"Right," Kirk said skeptically.

The admiral extended a hand and helped his friend to stand. As they walked together to the showers, Spock considered the fact that he had allowed himself to be distracted by thoughts of what the night might bring. Actually, when he examined his behavior over the last few days, he realized that he had been thinking of Uhura a great deal. He had never understood the human ability to focus single-handedly on the pursuit of romance, even to the exclusion of other more important tasks, but had he, himself, done so recently? It was an extremely disturbing concept.

He removed his clothing and stepped into the shower. Setting the controls for water rather than sonics, he resolved to take more care to discipline his mental processes in the future. When he worked up a soapy lather on his hands and ran them across his chest, though, he couldn't help but remember how it had felt during that cold night on Dantria when Uhura had touched him like this.

Perhaps... it was not so bad to indulge himself with thoughts of the pleasure they had found together. Indeed, it would be illogical to deny oneself the enjoyment of anticipation, and the mental exercise of allowing one's imagination to project what might happen next could only serve to enhance the powers of the mind.

As he allowed himself to form a mental picture of what it would be like to pull her soft body against his own once again, he felt a corresponding stirring in his genitals. Deciding that it was very possible that following this train of thought was not a good idea at the moment, he adjusted the water temperature so that it would be slightly cooler and quickened the pace of his shower.

Fascinating, the powers of the mind.

...

"Computer, lower lights."

Uhura glanced around her quarters. Her candles flickered beautifully in the murky dimness, but maybe it was overkill.

"Computer, raise lights."

But then again, why bother with the candles if the lights were bright?

"Computer, lower lights."

Deciding to go for broke, she said, "Computer, lower lights again."

There. Maybe Spock wasn't a romantic at heart, but she was, and this looked perfect to her.

She wandered over to the table and straightened the place settings yet again. Amazing how that silverware could get out of place all by itself. Grinning, she shook her head. What a foolish person she was! Getting all nervous, pacing the floor, rearranging everything a dozen times, smoothing the sheets on the bed...

Well, you never knew.

Was the seplachi still hot? She placed her hands on the sides of the dish. Really, Deltan seplachi was so tricky that she didn't trust the insulator to keep it exactly like she wanted it, but it seemed to be fine. Ice in the ice bucket, check. Bread in the warmer, check.

Music!

"Computer, play Debussy orchestral works. Random selection."

She smiled when she heard the simple beginning melody of "Clair de Lune." Perfect. Her favorite.

She deliberately avoided looking at the door as the chrono crept past 1959 hours, but her heart nevertheless gave a little leap when it chimed. She closed another fastener on the front of her caftan at the last second-no need to show quite that much cleavage-should she have worn her uniform like last night?-hell, should she have worn a bra?-and faced the door.

"Come."

When he stepped into her quarters, she could tell that he was a bit taken aback by the low light and the multitude of candles glowing around the room, but he nodded in approval.

"Very pleasing to the eye."

"Well, I thought it would be nice for a change." Damn, that was an idiotic thing to say. _Now he'll think I have men over for dinner all the time, when it's really been way too long since I had a date like this_.

"I brought the wine, just as you requested."

Spock pulled the bottle out of his jacket, and she had to laugh at the sight. Suddenly she wasn't nervous anymore. "I see you used my smuggling technique."

"Indeed. It was quite effective, although rather cold."

"Here, let me take that from you. Would you like a glass before I put it on ice?"

"Yes, please."

This time, they simply clinked their glasses without a toast. Her heart beat a little faster when she saw the expression on his face as they drank, but to her disappointment he didn't make a move toward her.

_Patience, Nyota. The night is young_.

They sat at the table and began to serve themselves.

"Did you hear from Saavik today?"

"No, I did not, but I had assumed from her last message that she intended to send you the next."

Passing him the bread, she said, "That's what I thought, too, but I suppose that she's been too busy. Of course, it's still fairly early there. Maybe one will come later."

"That is possible." He took a bite. "This is very good. What is it?"

"Well, it's supposed to be seplachi, but I thought that, uh, you might not appreciate the authentic version." Deltans were notorious for putting aphrodisiacs in everything from ale to aspirin. "I substituted a few ingredients."

Raising both eyebrows, he froze in mid-chew and swallowed heavily.

"May I ask which ones?"

"The ones that matter." She smiled teasingly. "Why, did you think that I was trying to drug you, Mr. Spock?"

"No, of course I did not, although it did enter my mind that perhaps you planned to 'expand my horizons.'"

"No, nothing like that."

"Ah. Unfortunate."

He returned his attention to his plate, but she could only gape at him. Had he just said what she thought he said?

"Spock, surely you don't mean to say that you would have been willing to sample some native Deltan cuisine."

"Not at all. I was merely referring to the fact that you do not intend to expand my horizons."

So. She was not the only person who could flirt. "Well, of course, it's always negotiable," she said.

"Indeed? Perhaps we could negotiate later."

"Just be sure to bring all of your bargaining chips to the table."

He met her eyes and nodded, and she could have sworn that he almost smiled.

"I always endeavor to do so."

Laughing, she picked up her wine and drained the glass. She must have lit too many candles. It was definitely getting warmer in here.

...

As the two of them moved from the table to the sofa, Spock watched her. She was relaxed and vivacious, which was quite a change from when he had arrived and she was obviously on edge. Stealing a glance at the bottle she carried in her hand, he wondered if the fact that it was nearly empty might have contributed to her effervescent mood. He, himself, had only had one glass, so he knew that she had consumed most of the wine herself. He had seen her outdrink even Mr. Scott in the past, however, so he assumed that she was not inebriated. She was merely enjoying herself. As was he.

"There's not much left, Spock. Will you have a little more?"

"I would be satisfied with just a portion of that. You may have the rest."

She emptied the bottle, then set it on the tabletop next to the glasses and leaned back, resting her head on the sofa. When she turned slightly so that she could look at him, he could see the myriad tiny points of light from the candles reflected in her eyes. Her skin seemed to glow like burnished copper, and he was fascinated to notice that the combination of the shadows and her flowing garment actually served to emphasize the curves of her body, rather than obscure them.

He reached out and placed his fingertips gently against her temple. Although he knew that the notion was illogical, her features were as defined and her face as still as a sculpture one might find in an art gallery, and he was almost surprised to detect the warm current of life beneath her soft, smooth skin. She leaned slightly into his touch.

Shifting his position so that he could better reach her, he began to move his fingers slowly across her face, tracing the contours of her forehead, cheek, and jaw, and investigating the subtle moistness of her lips. He could feel her breath condense on his skin, just the barest hint of dampness, and evaporate an instant later.

She closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the sensation as his fingers trailed across her neck and paused at the small depression at the base of her throat. He could glimpse only enough cleavage to tease, and, deciding that he wished to see more, he allowed his fingers to travel lower until he was able to open her caftan. He slid it off her shoulders just enough to reveal the top of her full breasts while leaving her nipples still concealed. He was not in a hurry. He would have the opportunity to examine that part of her anatomy in time.

Although his gaze was focused solely on the expanse of skin beneath his fingertips, he was aware that her lips had parted and that she was breathing more heavily now. Ignoring the impulse to press his own lips to hers, he continued to explore. The swells of her breasts were perfectly symmetrical, and although he only allowed himself the lightest touch, he knew that they would be satisfying in his hands. _Later_, he promised himself. Her shoulders were wonderfully rounded, the flesh deceptively soft. Intending to trace the muscles of her upper arms, he accidentally jostled her garment and caused it to fall open, pinned only by her back against the sofa.

She gasped slightly, surprised by the cool air against her skin, but did not open her eyes. Her nipples were taut, her belly flat, and Spock decided that he wished to have an unobstructed view of her entire upper body.

"Lean forward so that I may remove this from your arms," he whispered.

She complied, and he pushed it down to her waist. Then, as an afterthought, he grasped her shoulders and eased her down into a reclining position against the pillows at the end of the sofa. The caftan was open now to a point well below her navel, and he swallowed when he saw the impression of a swirl of dark hair beneath her exceedingly sheer undergarment. This was quickly becoming an exercise in self-restraint on his part.

Returning his attention to her shoulders, he slowly ran his fingertips down and back up the length of each arm, careful to stroke every finger on each of her hands as he did so, and to caress the thin skin on the inside of her elbows. After he was satisfied that he had touched every available centimeter of each arm, he brought his hand back across her shoulder and lightly, as lightly as he could, brushed his fingertips against her nipple. The unexpectedness of his action elicited a slight arching of her back.

He removed his hand and murmured, "Be still."

She relaxed again against the sofa.

Touching her more firmly, he pinched her nipple gently between his fingertips and traced the dark circle of her areola. Glancing at her face, he saw that she had drawn her brows together with the effort it took to remain motionless, but she obeyed him and did not move. He repeated the same sequence with her other breast.

As he moved his hand lower to investigate the lushness beneath her nipples, he happened to notice the glasses of wine on the low table and remembered his desire earlier to taste it on her skin. He had most likely proceeded too far in this vein to taste it on her lips, but perhaps he could still accomplish what he had intended to do.

Taking care not to remove his right hand from her abdomen, he reached cautiously to the table with his left and retrieved the glass without making a sound, and then held it poised over her torso while he studied her. He might have thought that she was asleep if it were not for the sound of her respiration and the distracting scent of her arousal. His eyes on her face, he slowly tipped the glass.

He was impressed by her restraint. Other than hissing slightly when the cool liquid made contact with her breasts, she did not flinch or even open her eyes. He bent his head to the valley between and licked the wine from her skin. She shivered but still did not move. The wine was sweet and slightly tangy, but he clearly recognized her taste, so unique and exotic, mixed with it.

When he thought he had removed all of the wine, he drew back and spotted a tiny droplet by her nipple. He had meant to pour it between her breasts, but evidently he had allowed some to splash. Kissing his way across her soft flesh, he made his way to the drop of wine and lapped it off. At that point, he was so close to her nipple that he could not resist moving his lips a little further and taking it into his mouth.

Almost of its own volition, his right hand came to rest against her breast and his fingers cupped her fullness while he continued to work with his lips. Although he had been gentle at first, he grew increasingly forceful, using his teeth and tongue to draw her nipple out to a hard point and manipulating the firm flesh beneath his fingers.

He realized that he had allowed himself to become sidetracked. When he had begun his careful exploration of her body, his intent had been to continue until he reached her toes. Suddenly, though, she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him tightly against her, and he abandoned his plan without another thought. He clumsily put the glass back on the table without looking, then grasped her other breast with his left hand. The glass toppled off and bounced on the carpet, but it barely registered in the back of his mind.

She moaned and arched her back, and he knew that he was lost. All self-control was gone, and he simply wanted to bury himself within her. Her hands were tugging on his uniform, and without even comprehending at first that he had done it, he grabbed her caftan and pulled it and her undergarment all the way down her legs until she was able to kick them off.

Somehow he had moved from her breasts to her mouth, and they were frantically, breathlessly kissing each other. Remotely he knew that she had managed to pull off his jacket and come to her knees, and she was now aggressively trying to pull his shirt off. They broke the kiss as she skinned it up over his head, and the instant she tossed it onto the floor her hands were on his pants, opening his pants, in his pants... He groaned and tilted his head back when she grasped him firmly in her cool hand.

He kicked off his boots and shed the remainder of his clothing. Just as he had pushed her back onto the cushions earlier, she now pushed him, but her motions were not slow nor were they gentle. He held her hips and pulled her onto him until she was straddling him, her fingers digging into his shoulder and all of her weight on her hand.

She paused for a brief moment, holding his eyes, and then slowly, blissfully, lowered herself onto him. He was almost overcome in that first instant, but he quickly wrested back his control. She smiled, seeing his struggle, and leisurely began to move on him.

He tightened his grip on her hips, and she quickened the pace. Unable to maintain eye contact, she closed her eyes and threw back her head. Her breasts were pushed out before her, and he watched them bob up and down in rhythm with her motions. She was moving with him, bouncing on her knees as he thrust into her, and suddenly she leaned back and cried out, her fingernails sharp as they bit into his skin.

He sat up and pulled her close to him as they continued to pound together. Although her breasts were right at his chin, he resisted the urge to smother himself in them. Instead, he wished to watch her face, to see the play of emotion across her beautiful features when she reached orgasm again. He was so near to that precipice himself, but he held unwaveringly to his control and concentrated on her eyes, her nose, her lips.

Her brows were drawn together and her mouth was open, and he could tell the instant that she climaxed by the sudden relaxing of her expression. She seemed to float away to somewhere far from him, and he held her close as he waited for her to return. The muscles of her vagina tightened around him, however, and abruptly he could not last another instant. He heard his own voice call out her name and felt himself pulsate deep within her, until finally there was nothing left in him and he rested his head against her breasts.

She held him as their breathing slowed. When he was able to lift his head, he drew back and looked into her face. She smiled gently.

"That was incredible, Spock."

"Yes. It was."

He leaned back on the sofa again and drew her down with him, and he caressed her arm as the candles continued to flicker all about them.

End chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Almost a Kiss, chapter 5

The next morning, Uhura sat down at her station on the bridge and began the diagnostic routine she always ran first thing. Spock wasn't here yet, which wasn't surprising since she was five minutes early and he was always exactly prompt. She had to smile at herself, because when she had stepped onto the bridge she had almost expected everyone to turn and look at her with either shocked, or, she had to admit, highly impressed expressions on their faces. Of course, no one had treated her any differently this morning, but she didn't know how that could be, because she sure felt different.

She had said goodbye to Spock less than three hours earlier. They had ended up sleeping on the sofa together last night, legs tangled and her head on his chest, and when she had awakened at 0514 she had been stiff and sore and had found a huge sticky spot beneath her. In other words, she had felt wonderful. Her neck was still a bit tight, though, and she craned it experimentally in an attempt to limber it up.

Hearing the door open behind her, she swiveled in her chair to see Spock stepping from the turbolift. A whole two minutes early! He must be feeling like things had changed a bit, too. She met his eyes conspiratorially and remembered the moment their eyes had met before he asked the computer if the hall outside her quarters was empty, and then silently slipped out and left her. She had been totally disheveled, her hair askew and her caftan only wrapped loosely around her shoulders, but he had looked impeccable enough that he could have marched right up to the bridge and been ready for his shift to begin. She had enjoyed watching him dress; funny how that most mundane of tasks could seem so intimate now. She wondered if he always took care to tuck in his shirt just so, and she figured that he probably did.

He darted another quick glance at her and raised a very discreet eyebrow before lifting his chin and walking to his station. Turning back to her board, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. Damn, she liked the way he moved. Long and lean, efficient and graceful... Actually, she'd always enjoyed watching him, but knowing what that body was like without clothing definitely enhanced her perspective.

Her board beeped, signaling that the diagnostics were complete, and she began scanning last night's transmissions. Well, look there. A message from Saavik! It had even come across relatively early in the evening, but she had missed it. She smiled; she must have been busy.

"Commander Spock," she said casually.

He swiveled around in his chair. "Yes, Commander."

"I received a message from Saavik last night."

"Indeed? I would be curious to hear what she has to say."

"Maybe you could come by and I'll play it for you. Say, after dinner tonight?"

"That would be acceptable."

"Good."

He nodded, and the two of them returned to their respective jobs, all business. Inwardly, though, she felt a little thrill of excitement. How brazen, arranging a tryst right under everyone's noses! Did Spock feel as daring as she did?

On second thought, she understood that it was very possible he didn't even realize what they'd just done. He generally took things at face value and was sometimes a bit naive, too, when it came to the little games that humans played.

She shook her head fondly. He would be horrified. She couldn't wait to tell him.

...

Carrying his tray, Spock accompanied Kirk over to the large table in the corner where he and the admiral normally dined. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his actions. This was a typical noon meal with the usual group of tablemates, exactly on schedule, and the food on his plate was characteristically unmemorable. He may have been away from this routine for a year, but upon resumption he had fallen back into it so easily that he could very well have never left. Why, then, did it seem as if all eyes were upon him when he approached the table and took the empty seat between Uhura and Dr. McCoy?

Of course, he knew exactly why. The reason was sitting directly beside him, cool, distractingly feminine, and obviously very pleased to have him next to her. He allowed a few decorous moments to pass before he turned to meet her eyes.

He was amused at her reaction. It was clear that she was trying her best to appear nonchalant as she looked up at him, but she couldn't keep a small smile from creeping to her lips under his scrutiny. He could even detect that the flow of blood to her face increased, despite the fact that the color of her skin made it difficult to see that she was blushing. Fascinating. He had always known that she was an exceedingly attractive woman, but as he watched her now, it seemed as if he were seeing her through new eyes. And perhaps such a concept was not entirely illogical, for even though his eyes had not changed, his perception certainly had.

"Spock."

Realizing as soon as he did it that he had moved too hastily, Spock tore his gaze away from Uhura and faced Kirk, who was seated across the table. He heard a small noise next to him that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed laugh, but he did not turn back.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Uhura said this morning that she had a message from Saavik, and it made me wonder how she was doing. Is this the first you've heard from her?"

"No, it is not. We, or rather, I received a message two days ago in which she indicated that she is adjusting to her new home quite well."

Uhura had taken a bite of her meal and placed her fork back onto her plate. Without looking at her or even pausing for conscious thought, Spock picked up the salt and pepper and held them in her direction.

"Excuse me, Spock, could you pass the..." She became quiet when she saw that he had anticipated her question. Only then did he understand what he had done. He looked at her again, and she clamped her lips together to keep from laughing outright when he met her eyes. They had become so attuned to one another during her time on Dantria that he had automatically given her the salt and pepper without even having to be asked.

Kirk continued, unaware of the guilty glances being exchanged across the table. "Bones told me a little about the time he and Uhura spent on Dantria, and something else I've been wondering is how the two of you are adjusting to such a big change in your lives."

"The... two of us."

Grinning, Kirk said, "You can tell me until you're green in the face that it's only a change for her, but I know very well that it's a big change for you, too. You may think you fooled him, but Bones told me all about how obvious it is that she means the universe to you."

Spock blinked, uncertain how to respond. "You are referring to Saavik?"

"Of course I am. Who did you think I meant?"

McCoy spoke up. "You should have seen him, Jim, when we brought Saavik home from the hospital. There's no doubt who ruled the roost in that house."

"Well, she's a character. I really got a kick out of meeting her at Sulu's wedding. By the way, Sulu, remind me someday to tell you what she said when you and Susan left the reception."

"I already heard, believe me. From several people."

Chuckling at Sulu's expression, Kirk turned back to Uhura. "Uhura, you ended up spending quite a bit of time on Dantria, but you never told me much about it. I'll bet it was a real eye-opening experience."

Spock didn't dare look at her as he waited for her to respond. Finally, she said, "Oh, it certainly was."

"What all did you do while you were there?"

"With Saavik?"

Obviously somewhat frustrated, Kirk laughed and said, "Yes, with Saavik. Why is it that I'm the only person who understands what we're talking about? Bones, how many conversations do you hear at this table?"

"Only the one, Jim."

Quickly putting the discussion back on track, Uhura said, "Saavik kept me busy every moment. She and Spock had a lovely home, very isolated and peaceful, and there was always something new to explore. We took many walks in the woods and through the fields, and we worked in the garden, and we spent quiet evenings on the back porch when it was warm and by the fire when it was cool."

As she spoke, Spock thought back to those idyllic days. He and Saavik _had_ enjoyed a good life there, and he had been surprised to discover just how easily Uhura had fit into it. Would she fit so smoothly into his life here on the Enterprise? If he were to judge by his reaction to sitting here next to her at a casual meal, he might deduce that she would not. There was no denying the fact that she had disrupted his thoughts as of late. Indeed, it was only yesterday that he had been considering this very subject, and if anything his preoccupation had grown worse since then. This morning, when he had come onto the bridge and seen her sitting at her station, it had taken him much too long to settle himself at his own station and devote his undivided attention to his work. And if he were honest with himself, he knew that he had actually not been completely successful even at that. Perhaps he had managed to function efficiently enough, but the lingering impressions of the night before had continued to tickle the back of his mind all morning.

Pretending polite interest, he watched as she gestured with her fork and smiled in fond remembrance of her times on Dantria. Her words described her daily routine with Saavik, but he wondered if secretly she was remembering the moments that he remembered. That night, while the wind howled at the walls of the small house, when he had slowly undressed her and revealed all the wonders of her lush body. That night, when they had stood in the middle of her dark room and explored one another with their hands and mouths until she had begged him to lay her across the bed and take her. That night, when the cool air seeping in from the window had finally chilled both of them to the point that they had taken refuge under the heavy covers and slept, physical needs fulfilled and minds at peace, with not a thought to what the next day might bring.

It had taken many months, but the next day had eventually brought last night, and it was the memory of last night that had driven him to distraction all morning. She was a passionate woman, hot-blooded and strong in her desires. In addition, he had been entirely surprised by his own response. She brought out something in him, something fundamental and raw, and he found that he was savoring every moment of it. If simply sitting here next to her did not leave him unaffected, what would it be like tomorrow? And the next day? He could not decide if he would be relieved when this preoccupation with her eased or if he wanted it to last forever.

Soon the others were standing to return to duty, and he realized that he had eaten less than half of his meal. She touched him lightly on the arm, concern in her expression, and asked quietly, "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I am simply not extremely hungry."

"Well, don't lose your appetite entirely."

Unable to discern if the double entendre had been intentional, he tilted his head and studied her, and he was rewarded by a seductive little smile before she rose and tagged along behind the others. He picked up his tray and followed. Ah, but she was definitely enjoying herself.

Watching her put her tray in the slot and precede him through the door, he allowed his eyes to trace her figure from behind. He could not deny that he was finding a certain enjoyment in this, too, and he wondered if he would ever be able to look at her again without attempting to mentally undress her. The idea was a bit unsettling.

But, he had to admit, not entirely unpleasant.

End chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Almost a Kiss, chapter 6

"Hello, Nyota! Yesterday I went to my first day of school! It was not so bad. My teacher is very nice, and he said that my behavior was 'impeccable.' Elizabeth is in my class, and she got to go to the front of the class and introduce me. The teacher told everyone to show me the ropes, but later when I asked Elizabeth where the ropes are and what is so special about them, she did not know what I meant. I will have to tell Mr. Thras that the children need to show Elizabeth the ropes, too.

"The first thing we studied was geometry. It was too easy, but I did not complain. Then we learned about the crops that the settlers from Earth brought to Gamma Cygnus. They grow radishes! We had some radishes at lunch, but they were not as good as mine.

"After lunch all of the children went outside. When I asked the teacher what we were supposed to study, he said that we were not supposed to study anything! It was very inefficient. I told him that I did not want to waste my time, but he said that all children need to do playing and that it is not a waste of time. Sometimes I think that Mr. Thras is not an extremely good teacher, because when I asked him how to do playing, he just told me to run around with the other children. It was most illogical. I climbed a tree and looked at insects.

"Next we studied history, and Mr. Thras talked about the Organians! Tell Spock that Mr. Thras had a number of errors in the story, but that I corrected him." Saavik was obviously very satisfied with herself.

Uhura glanced over at Spock, who had such an expression of foreboding on his face that she grinned.

Saavik continued. "Mr. Thras said that the Federation representatives blew up the Klingon supplies! I had to explain that Admiral Kirk and Commander Spock would never do something like that. I was very logical."

Spock shook his head and murmured, "I did not think it necessary to tell her all the details of that mission."

"After school, we worked on a tree house for the two stupid boys, but it was very difficult because they kept wanting to stop and watch for Klingons. I told them if they want me to help, they must concentrate on the task at hand, and that anyway there are no Klingons here."

Pausing for a moment, Saavik frowned. "Nyota, what does it mean to be 'bossy'? I did not understand the reference. Anyway, today we did more of the same, except that there was a mean girl on the playground at school who made Elizabeth cry. I told her that if she made Elizabeth cry again she would be in big trouble.

"Rosa says that I must go to bed now. Goodbye!"

Spock raised both eyebrows and stared at the empty screen. "Perhaps I should contact Margaret and ensure that she knows about the incident on the playground."

"Spock, I hate to say it, but bullies are a fact of life on every playground in the galaxy. Saavik may just have to learn to deal with them the hard way. I remember that I sure did. Didn't you ever have a bully push you around on the playground?"

"There was no 'playground' at the school I attended on Vulcan, but unfortunately there _were _several children who used their size and aggressive manner to intimidate the other children. Myself included." He sighed. "Perhaps you are correct, although I believe that you have misunderstood my concern. It is not Saavik whom I fear will suffer."

"Even better. It sounds like that other girl could use a lesson or two as well."

He nodded but did not comment as they continued to gaze at each other. Finally, she carefully placed her fingertips on his thigh.

"Would you like to stay a while? Have some tea?" She dropped her voice to its most alluring level. "Or me?"

"I had hoped at least to have some tea."

"So you did understand what sort of invitation I was extending this morning on the bridge."

"Indeed I did."

"Well, then how about we just skip the tea."

"An excellent proposition."

Taking him by the hand, she drew him into the bedroom without breaking eye contact. When they stood by the bed, she said, "Take your jacket off. Slowly."

He tilted his head, as she knew he would, and studied her. Not sure how he would react, she held her breath. She'd been planning this seduction scene all day long, and she was already so worked up from thinking about it that she felt weak in the knees. When he raised a hand to his jacket and began to open it, she knew that he was going to cooperate.

The jacket off, he folded it and tossed it onto a nearby chair. She raised an eyebrow in deliberate imitation of him.

"Now your shirt."

Watching him as he untucked it and shrugged it off over his head, she had to moisten her suddenly dry lips. His chest and shoulders were beautiful-hard and wiry, covered with a pattern of thick, dark hair-and she felt a shiver creep up her spine when she thought of the immense strength that was contained in those lean muscles. This was the first time she'd really gotten a good look at him. It had been too dark on Dantria, they'd been in a hurry last night, and she'd been half asleep when he left this morning. And in all their years of serving together, she'd never seen him with his shirt off.

He folded the shirt and delivered it to the same chair, and waited for his next instructions.

"Your boots and socks."

He removed them and lined them up neatly by the chair.

"Your pants."

Although she could tell that he felt a little awkward, he opened his pants, slowly pushed them down, and stepped out of them. When he straightened and met her eyes, she knew that she had a wicked grin on her face. Maybe he felt self-conscious about stripping in front of her, but he obviously didn't have any problem with her intent. The evidence of that was straining very clearly against his remaining garment.

As he folded his pants and threw them onto the chair, she could tell that he was expecting her to tell him to take off his underwear next. She didn't plan to have him do that, though. That was going to be her job, and she had something else she wanted to do first.

He watched her patiently. Letting the silence draw out, she finally lifted her hand to her jacket and whispered, "Now it's my turn."

Languorously removing her jacket and dropping it on the floor, she was careful not to look away from him. She knew that she was good at this, and that she'd have him sweating by the time she was done. To make it even better, when she had gotten off duty earlier, she'd rushed back here and put on her sheerest, flimsiest undergarments before she met everyone for dinner.

Sitting next to him in the officers' mess, knowing what she was wearing underneath her uniform and what she had planned for later, had been exquisite torture. And on top of that, every time she had moved, her bra and panties had slid across her skin in the most delicious way. She'd been so aroused that she'd hardly been able to eat. The corner of her mouth turned up when she thought about how next time she was wearing these, she'd have to let him know _before_ they sat down to dinner.

Pulling her shirt off in one slow, fluid motion, she dropped it on the floor next to her jacket and saw him swallow as his gaze dropped momentarily from her face. When he looked back up, her eyes widened at the combination of lust, enjoyment, and appreciation she saw on his features. This was even more exciting than she'd thought.

She unfastened her skirt as slowly as possible, teasing him, and deliberately opened the seam only halfway so that she'd have to shimmy out of it. Taking her time tugging it down, she was careful to bend over just enough to emphasize her cleavage. She felt her panties slide down a tiny bit when the skirt went past them, but that was fine. It would give her an excuse in a moment to adjust them.

When the skirt was down to her calves, she stepped out of it and kicked it to the side, and then bent to take off her boots. This was the tricky part. Boots were hard to take off gracefully, but she knew that she could do it. Balancing carefully, she removed one, shifted, and removed the other.

When she stood and faced him again, she felt almost as if there was a current-a tangible, physical, connection-flowing between them. She fancied that she could actually see the sparks jumping and crackling in the air as she slowly closed the gap. She knew that she, herself, was on fire, a flame burning between her legs, heat building deep in her belly.

She stepped close to him and ran her fingers up his chest before sliding her body voluptuously against his own. His erection was hard between them, and she could tell by his sharp intake of breath that the slick material of her bra and panties felt as good against his skin as they had felt against her own.

His fingers landed on her waist, but soon moved to the base of her spine and dropped lower still until he cupped her in his hands, massaging her through the silken fabric and pulling her to him. She felt his teeth graze her neck, and she leaned her head to the side, gripping his shoulders with all of her strength when his hand slipped underneath the fragile elastic band and touched her where she burned the hottest.

"Spock," she gasped, "Oh, yes. Oh, oh yes."

He was sliding down her now, trailing kisses the length of her body while he held her hips firmly in place. He did not linger, only staying long enough to moisten the thin barrier of her panties with his tongue, but she felt herself melt with just that smallest promise of what he might do to her later.

When he stood again, she pulled his head down and kissed him, long and deep, smashing herself so close against him that her breasts ached from the pressure, grinding herself so hard against him that he groaned from the contact. His mouth was hot on her own, and his arms were strong, so strong, around her.

Breaking the kiss, she backed sinuously to the bed and sat down, towing him with her until he stood before her. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, the last part of her fantasy. She tugged his underwear down until just the head of his erection showed. Not having had a chance before to really examine him, she was amazed at the dark green color, alien, found on her world only in the color of the ocean on a stormy day, or in a soft bed of moss springing from the forest floor.

She carefully touched just the tip of her tongue to the flesh that peeked out. She had tasted him before, on Dantria, but it had all been so different then, strange and wonderful but almost a blur. This time, she took it slowly, concentrating on running her tongue around those incredible ridges, lapping out to the tip and circling back down. He had placed his hands on the back of her head, but she could tell that he was making every effort to hold himself in check and let her decide just how far and fast to go.

Running her fingers underneath his waistband, she gradually tugged it down to reveal more of him, using her tongue on each new bit of flesh that was exposed until she had access to all of him. She continued to lap at him unrelentingly, tickling him one moment and caressing him the next, but never using her lips or teeth in any way.

When his fingers tightened convulsively on her scalp, she decided that she'd made him stand long enough. Trailing her tongue the entire length of his erection from base to tip, she delicately kissed him on the belly, pushed his underwear the rest of the way down, and scooted back on the bed where he could see her.

Holding his eyes, she unhooked her bra and threw it to the side. Then, raising her hips for a moment, she slowly peeled off her underpants. Instead of immediately tossing them away, though, she made a great show of shaking the wrinkles out before she flung them to the floor.

Finally, she leaned back on her elbows and spread her legs in invitation. She'd expected him to join her on the bed as soon as she was undressed, but instead, he simply stood there, his eyes dark and hooded, and regarded her.

"I have never met a woman like you, Nyota."

His voice washed over her, low and intimate, and she felt as if she could come just from listening to it. She wanted to beg him to tell her more, but before she could respond, he lowered himself to the bed and pressed his lips to the inside of her knee. She watched in fascination. His hair was so dark and shiny, his expression intense, and his whole being seemed entirely focused on just that small area of delicate skin on her leg.

He continued to nibble on her, and what had seemed so delightful at first soon became torture. She fell back on the bed, moaning, and willed him to do more, please to do more. Just when she thought that she would explode in frustration, he began to move, slowly easing his way upward, his lips insistent against her thigh, his teeth sharp on the tendon that connected her thigh to her crotch, and then there he was, hot and wet where she was hot and wet, pushing and probing. It seemed that he had barely touched her before she exploded in a wave of sensation, clutching his shoulders and raising her hips, but he continued, holding her firmly in place until she cried out again, and again, and finally couldn't stand it anymore.

"Now, Spock, oh, now." Was that her own voice? Hoarse and desperate?

Without hesitating another moment, he hauled himself up and plunged into her. She was so wet that she took all of him in one movement, but it still wasn't enough. Moving her feet as high up onto his back as she could, she tilted her pelvis toward the ceiling and cried out from the almost-pain of feeling him thrust against her uterus. He paused for a moment, concerned that he was hurting her, but she grasped his hips and urged him on.

Obviously understanding that she wanted him as deep within her as possible, he came to his knees and lifted her so that she was kneeling across his lap. His arms were around her lower back, and she was secure in the knowledge that he could support her weight, so she leaned away from him until she had bent so far that she could feel the muscles across her belly and ribcage groan in protest. The feeling of such complete abandon was thrilling, and when she caught a glimpse of their two bodies in the mirror across the room, hers arching backwards and his straight, the muscles standing out on his arms from the effort of holding her on his lap while plunging into her, she felt herself fly away, calling out his name and digging her fingernails into his forearms. An instant later, she felt him come, his grip on her back tightening as he emptied himself into her, his voice hoarse with the unintelligible cry that was forced from him when he lost his control.

When he was finally still, she pulled herself upright and collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. She could feel the perspiration run between her breasts, itchy and uncomfortable, but she didn't care. All she wanted was this relaxed, intimate feeling of being one with him.

Finally, when her knees had become so stiff that it hurt to move, he eased her down onto the mattress and settled himself next to her. She felt him slip from her when they shifted position, but she didn't make a move to retrieve a towel. They could clean themselves up later. Now, all she wanted was to bask in the warmth of his incredible body, so close, in her own bed, in her own cabin. This was bliss. Maybe the sex was enough to shatter her universe, but this afterglow was even better.

She settled her head on his chest and soon felt herself begin to drift away.

...

Spock wrapped his arm around her back and listened to her breathe. What an exceptional and exciting woman! He had never known such physical gratification. Indeed, his entire body was relaxed and satiated, and simply felt good.

Why, then, was this not enough? Why was he compelled to yearn for more? Was it not sufficiently distracting that he should constantly be consumed with thoughts of exploring her body, without adding to that a desire to explore her mind? He should be content with this and ignore the sensation of feeling incomplete, but the urge was too strong and he could not dismiss it. He debated waking her. Was it too soon? He knew that she had never done anything like this before. Would he ask too much?

In the end, he decided that he would do them both an injustice if he did not at least ask. Stroking her arm, he whispered, "Nyota."

She stirred and mumbled, "Yes?"

"I would like very much to touch your mind."

He was dismayed to feel her tense against him. "A mind-meld?"

"No, nothing that drastic. I only want to touch your thoughts. I will not be invasive, and I will make every effort to be gentle. This is very important to me. May I?"

She was silent for a long moment. Finally, she whispered, "Yes."

Moving his hand to her face, he touched the contact points and gently, so gently, allowed his mind to brush against hers. Her thoughts were just as he had expected, warm and welcoming, enfolding, inviting. It was a calm, accepting place, and he wished to stay there, but he resisted the temptation and withdrew.

"Did you find that disagreeable?"

"No, Spock, it was beautiful. It seems like forever that I've known you as well as I've known anyone, but for that instant, suddenly, I really _knew_ you."

"Would you be willing to let me touch more of you at some other time?"

"Oh, yes," she murmured.

She was quiet for so long that he assumed she had fallen asleep. Deciding that he would stay until 0200 hours, he closed his eyes and prepared for sleep himself. She surprised him, though, when she spoke a few minutes later with a note of awe in her voice.

"I saw how deeply you care for me, Spock."

"You should know by now that I do."

"Yes, I did, but yet to actually see myself through your eyes, well, that was incredible. Did you see how I feel about you?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She tightened her arm around his chest briefly before relaxing, and when she was quiet this time, he knew that she was asleep.

End chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Almost a Kiss, chapter 7

"Scotty, thanks for the offer, but I don't think that I really feel like going anywhere right now."

Her hand firmly on Scotty's arm, Uhura was trying her best to shove him politely out the door. He didn't take the hint, though, and when he evaded her grasp and moved further into her quarters, she gritted her teeth, smiled, and cursed her dear old friend under her breath.

"But lass, surely ye can't mean to spend this fine night here in your quarters? The view outside is breathtaking, what with the nebula so close by, and I think ye'd enjoy sitting up on the observation deck with me."

"I know I would, and you're so sweet to come by, but I'm really, really tired." She yawned and stretched. "I think I'll just, uh, turn in early tonight. Really."

He looked away from her for a moment, and she darted a quick glance at the chronometer. 2059. Damn! Spock would be here any minute. She'd been on the turbolift this afternoon, on her way to a departmental briefing when it had stopped near the science labs to allow someone to board. Of course, it had popped into the back of her mind to wonder if the person waiting for the lift might be Spock, but she had been truly surprised when she found out that it _was_ him. They'd only had a minute to talk before she reached her destination, but it had been enough time for him to ask if he could come by this evening, and to gently touch his fingers to hers before the doors opened and she had to disembark. It had been thrilling-almost like a kiss in the turbolift! She'd practically floated through her briefing after that. As a matter of fact, her second-shift backup, Chan, had even teasingly asked her what kind of pills Dr. McCoy had given her because he wanted some, too.

"I've got some scotch just waiting for us." Lifting the bottle in front of him, Scotty smiled his most persuasive smile, and she had to laugh despite herself.

"Oh, Scotty. It's a tempting offer, but no."

"Just for a little while-"

Her door chimed, and she turned toward it and froze. Scotty looked from the door to her, and back to the door again.

"Nyota, are ye going to answer it?"

"Yes! Well! I wonder who that could be?"

Crossing her fingers in hope that Spock wouldn't show up with a bottle of wine under his jacket, she called, "Come!"

The door slid open. Instead of standing hesitantly in her doorway like he had each time before, he took two confident steps into her quarters before he noticed that she wasn't alone.

He stopped abruptly and drew himself up. "Ah, Mr. Scott. Commander."

Trying not to grin at the expression on his face and the fact that he wasn't making any effort to explain why he was here, she decided that she'd better help him out.

"Well, hello, Mr. Spock. Do you have that, um, report I need to review?"

He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, so she tried again. "You know, that report you said you'd bring by for me?"

Scott finally couldn't stand it. "A beautiful night like this and you're going to work, lass? No disrespect Mr. Spock, but it'd be a downright shame to make her work on a night like tonight."

"Of course, Mr. Scott." He took a step backwards. "There is no need for us to do this tonight, Commander."

She reached out to stop him. "But, Scotty was-"

"I will speak to both of you tomorrow."

"Wait-"

Shit. He was already gone.

"Well, lass. Now you have to come with me, seeing that I got rid of Mr. Spock for ye."

She took Scott's elbow and dragged him to the door. "No, Scotty. I mean it. Thanks, but not tonight."

"All right. Get a good night's rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

When the door slid shut, she leaned against the wall and debated calling Spock. But no, she didn't want to seem too pushy. He was a smart guy. He'd figure it out and come back later.

...

The next day at lunch, Spock found himself alone at the table. The admiral had been forced to stop by his quarters to deal with some personal matters, and McCoy was in the midst of crew physicals. He did not know what had happened to Sulu. And although Scott often joined them, he was not here today. The only person left was Uhura, and he fully expected her to arrive at any moment. He sipped his tea and was careful to project patience.

Just as he had anticipated, only 2.1 minutes passed before she walked through the door. She quickly came over and sat at his table.

"Hi, Spock."

"Greetings, Nyota."

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"I assumed that you were on your way, so I waited."

"How nice. Are you ready to get something now?"

"Yes."

They walked to the food slot and made their selections. On the way back to the table, Uhura murmured, "I missed you last night."

"I was rather dissatisfied with the outcome of the evening, as well."

He knew as he said this that his words were not entirely truthful; describing his reaction as 'rather dissatisfied' was an understatement at the very least. The realization that after only two nights of physical relations with her he would experience such restlessness if deprived of similar contact on the third had been most disturbing.

They placed their trays on the table and took their seats.

"Why didn't you come back?" she asked.

"I assumed that you would be busy with Mr. Scott."

"But I'd made plans with you! I wouldn't change them. Surely you knew that."

"Yes..."

"Yes! And you know what else? You didn't try hard enough to stick around in the first place. I was just about to get rid of Scotty. A few words about the importance of that 'report' and we would have been alone. You gave up too quickly."

He drew his brows together and studied her. Was she angry with him or merely explaining the situation? Finally, he picked up the salt and pepper and handed them to her without comment.

Although she didn't react at first, she eventually laughed and accepted them. "Is that a peace offering?"

"Perhaps."

"I'm sorry. I guess I should have just called you myself instead of waiting for you to show up at my door."

"If it is any consolation, the night was rather long for me, as well."

She looked around to make sure that no one was watching before she leaned across the corner of the table.

"A long night isn't a problem for me, if you get my drift."

"I do."

"Will you come by tonight?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She glanced quickly over his shoulder, then straightened and dug her fork into her meal. An instant later, Spock recognized Kirk's footsteps, and he knew that they were no longer alone. He cleared his throat and picked up his fork, and busied himself with pushing his food around on his plate. This would appear to be yet another meal he would not be able to consume.

...

Taking great care to move steadily and unhurriedly, Spock walked in the direction of Uhura's quarters. He had been awaiting this moment since their discussion at lunch, but as he neared her door, his pace slowed. Should he contact her and tell her that he wished to reschedule their appointment? He would have liked to meditate this evening, but it was very likely that he would disappoint her if he were to do so. It was also very likely that even if he were to take the time, he would not be able to concentrate enough to achieve his objective. That was what had happened yesterday. And the day before. Actually, it was becoming a rather familiar refrain.

As he stepped up to her door and took a moment to compose himself, the thought occurred to him that she might not be alone. He had not even considered the fact that Mr. Scott, having failed to convince her to join him yesterday, might try again today. It was possible that he, Spock, could state that yesterday's 'report' had become so urgent that they could no longer postpone completing it, but he was uncertain if he would be capable of sustaining such a deception if pressed.

Someone was approaching. Either he should announce his presence and feign a businesslike attitude, or he should walk away. It would not do for him to be seen loitering outside of her door. Finally deciding that his desire to see her outweighed all other factors, he nodded politely to the passing crewman and signaled his arrival.

He heard her gentle voice beckon, and the door slid open. He did not enter, though, instead looking around to ensure that she was alone. She understood his concern and laughed.

"Come on in, Spock. There's no one here but me."

When he entered her quarters, she moved toward him, and he wondered how he could possibly have wanted to delay this moment.

"Greetings, Nyota."

He held up his fingers for the ritual embrace, and he felt his heart rate increase a tiny bit when she pressed her hand to his and did not withdraw it immediately. She finally pulled away, but not before she had imparted the subtle promise of more later.

"Would you care for some tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

He settled himself on her sofa. "I assume that you have not heard again from Saavik."

"No, not a peep. Even though I'm dying to hear more about how she's doing, I suppose we should be grateful for the scarcity of her messages. It would be awful if we got one every day saying that she was miserable."

"That is true."

She put the tea on the table and sat beside him. "I wonder what she's doing right now. Probably working on the tree house. I'll have to be sure to tell her to hang a knotted rope from it so they'll have more than one way to get in and out."

"Am I to assume that you have some knowledge about the proper construction of a tree house?"

"Oh yes, I'm an authority. My sister and I built the most wonderful tree house one summer in a big baobab tree. We practically lived in it, carting out books and all the food we could swipe from the kitchen. I remember that we even talked our father into letting us sleep in it one night, although it was pretty scary and we never wanted to do it again. A tree house is magical. Have you ever been in one?"

"Technically, no, I have not."

"That sounds like a qualified answer to me."

"You are very astute. Actually, Margaret had one." He paused at her grin. "Yes?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just knew that Margaret would come into this somehow. Go on."

"She wished for me to see it and talked me into climbing the tree with her. When I reached our destination, however, I decided that it looked rather unsafe and refused to enter."

"What? That's part of the fun of tree houses!"

"That is exactly what Margaret said."

"Well, when we visit Saavik someday, I fully intend to check out her tree house, and I expect you to be right there with me." She paused, and color rose to her cheeks. "Uh, that is, if we're there at the same time. Sorry. I guess that's a pretty bold assumption on my part."

Intrigued, he brushed his fingertips against her face. Even though she still felt cool to his touch, he could tell that her body temperature had risen slightly due to the increased blood flow under her skin.

"I would like very much to visit Saavik with you, even though I do not think that I will join you in the tree house."

She smiled. "Mmmm. Touch me there again."

He rested his hand on her cheek. "Like this?"

"Yes."

Although her eyes were closed and she was waiting for his caress, all he could do was stare at his hand against her face. His fingertips were close to the contact points, so close-it would be such a simple matter to shift them and touch her mind.

Opening her eyes again, she searched his face. "What is it?" she whispered.

He licked his lips and swallowed. "I want to touch your thoughts."

"Yes."

His fingers crept across her cheekbone. "This will not be a casual contact. I wish to explore your mind, Nyota, slowly and thoroughly."

"Oh, yes."

Only a millimeter more, and there. There she was. Her mind unfolded before him like a flower spreading its petals, and she was exquisite, her thought patterns perfect even in their disarray, so typically human and so wonderfully different than his own.

And she was accepting him, drawing him in, encouraging him to open his mind to hers. He saw her amazement at the ordered structures of his own thoughts, and he allowed her to flow over and under and around the walls of his consciousness. He could no longer tell where he ended and she began; her desire for him coiled deep in his own being, and his hunger for her burned brightly in her heart. He found her joy at the gradual attraction that had grown between them, her exultation in the rapture of their physical joinings, her surprise when she learned that he had become consumed with thoughts of her, her puzzlement at his confusion... her dismay at his doubts... ah, no...

She gently drifted away from him, and he closed his eyes, almost overcome by the real physical pain of his loss. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, his arm around her back and her hands in his hair, but the distance between them was so great they may as well have been sitting on opposite sides of the room.

She moved her hands until they were pressed softly against either side of his face, but he could not make himself open his eyes. Finally, she spoke.

"Spock, look at me."

Steeling himself, he opened his eyes, but he was surprised at what he saw. Her eyes were bright, but they were not pained. Instead of sorrow, he saw understanding. There was no anger, only affection. How could it be?

"Nyota, I am sorry. I did not understand myself what you have seen so clearly-"

"Shhh. It's all right."

"I did not mean to disappoint you."

"Don't worry about me."

"But you are so sure that we are right for one another. I saw it in your thoughts. Does my uncertainty not upset you?"

"I can't deny that I'm a little let down, but I should have known that you'd be struggling with this. That's just part of who you are. Now that I think about it, every time we've taken a step toward one another, you've been the one to back away again. It even happened on Dantria. More than once." Dropping her hands, she smiled and sat back slightly. "Heavens, how can I object to the fact that you think about me so much?"

"I wonder if the word 'obsess' might be more applicable."

"Spock, no, it's not an obsession. I think about you all the time, too, but that's normal for the beginning of any relationship. It's always scary."

"Are you frightened?"

"Yes, a bit, but I'm not bothered by it. We decided a long time ago that the benefits of being together outweighed the risk. I thought that you were okay with everything, but I see now that you aren't."

"And you can accept that?"

"No. I can't."

He frowned, puzzled.

She continued. "Understanding is entirely different than accepting. You'll go nuts if you continue to waiver forever, and eventually you'll make me crazy, too. You need to make up your mind whether you want to take the plunge or not. We're not so far into this that we can't break it off and still remain friends." She stood. "Go back to your quarters and think about it. I hope, dearly hope, that you decide to go forward with this, with us, but if you don't we have to stop it now."

He sat on the sofa and looked up at her, more confused than ever. He did want her, terribly, yet he could not deny the fact that he was troubled by that very want. Perhaps she was right. He dropped his eyes and stood.

She followed him to the door.

"Nyota, this does not change the fact that I care for you very much."

"I know. I can tell that you do. You just need to take some time to decide what you want."

He nodded. "I will talk to you soon."

"Okay."

He met her eyes one last time, and turned and walked out her door. As soon as it closed behind him, he stopped and took a deep breath. What had just happened? Had he destroyed their fledgling relationship before it had really begun? He would return to his quarters, and tonight he would find the self-control that he needed in order to meditate.

...

When he was out the door, she sighed and shook her head. Poor Spock. Sometimes he just thought about things altogether too much. Too bad he couldn't relax and enjoy life, but thank heavens she could. They'd never get anywhere if they both analyzed every little detail to the point of paralysis.

Wandering over to the coffee table and picking up their mugs, she smiled at the memory of how desperately he wanted to be with her. Wow! That a man like Spock could be so wound up over her...

He'd be back.

End chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

Almost a Kiss, chapter 8

Finally giving up on sleep, Spock sat up. It would be time to rise in 19.3 minutes anyway, and he was accomplishing nothing by staying here. Staring at his firepot, he wondered idly if he should try again to meditate, but he made no attempt to move.

Although the notion was illogical, the night had seemed inordinately long. And he had resolved nothing. He had never encountered a problem that could not be solved by simple logic, yet this one stymied him. He and Uhura were extremely compatible, with common interests in many subjects. Being around her was easy, and he often caught himself discussing topics with her that he had never considered discussing with anyone before. In addition, the physical aspect of the relationship was undeniably attractive.

Then, however, he considered the fact that he had been unable to meditate, sleep, eat, or even concentrate on his duties since that first night he had spent in her quarters, and he could not help but think of a colloquial human phrase-perhaps he was, indeed, 'in over his head.' In addition, he had given no serious consideration to the fact that they were violating fraternization policy. He had easily dismissed it under the assumption that those guidelines, which were after all only guidelines and not hard rules, applied to less rational beings than the two of them. Uhura was extremely experienced and sensible, so he did not foresee a problem with her behavior in regard to the guidelines, but was it possible that the problem would end up being with him? Should he tell her that he had decided to end their relationship because they were violating Starfleet policy?

He closed his eyes. No, he could not blame any of this on the fraternization guidelines. The difficulty was entirely in him. Other than his bonding, which could hardly be seen in the same light as this, he had never been in the position to entertain the notion of a long-term sexual partnership, and he had certainly never expected it to be this complicated. And he was attempting to arrange his life around only a single woman. How in the universe had Admiral Kirk managed?

He sighed and rose to face the day.

...

Uhura busied herself at her station and deliberately did not watch the chronometer. It was useless, though. Even without looking at it, she knew that it would show 0759. Spock would be here any minute. Should she smile at him when he went by, or nod politely? Maybe it would be best to wait and just take her cue from him.

Her board beeped, and she saw that she had received a priority message from Starfleet Medical for Dr. McCoy. Probably an update on those new procedures he'd been talking about the other day at lunch. She hoped that's what it was, anyway-poor Ensign Thrin had been so miserable recently, and maybe the doctor could finally do something about that pinched nerve in his antenna. She acknowledged receipt of the message and patched it through to sickbay, the task so automatic that she hardly had to think about it.

She checked the chronometer and saw that the time was 0801. Well! 0800 had come and gone, and she hadn't even noticed it. Where was Spock?

"Commander Uhura."

"Yes, Admiral?"

"We're approaching the Morling Station. Could you see if we can reach anyone? We're a little early, and they may not be ready to transfer that cargo aboard."

"Aye, sir." Applying herself to making contact, she quickly realized that they were using some sort of old protocol over there. She shook her head at the inefficiency and fiddled around until she had figured it out. "There. I have them, Admiral. Hailing."

When she turned back to Kirk, she saw that Spock was just walking past her to his station. The chronometer read 0804. Four whole minutes late! He immediately sat down and began work, his back to her and his head bent. Taking a moment to appreciate how effortlessly his hands worked his board even though his eyes were on his viewer, she felt a small flush rise to her neck when she remembered what else those hands could do. She had missed him last night after he left. Maybe tonight she would be able to appreciate those incredible hands again.

She was interrupted by a signal indicating that someone at the station had responded, and she turned back to her board. Within moments, she was immersed in the details of the cargo transfer.

...

As the end of his shift drew near, Spock attempted to plan his evening. He was not especially hungry, and the prospect of sitting in the officers' dining hall and pretending to eat was not one he found appealing at the moment. He had actually wished to avoid lunch today, as well, but when it was discovered that he intended to continue working, the admiral had objected so strenuously that in the end the effort it took to avoid the meal had been greater than the effort it would take to endure it. It had not been a pleasurable experience, however. Uhura's lighthearted presence by his side had done nothing to assuage his concerns. Then, when she had looked up to find him watching her at the end of the meal... He did not intend to have that happen again.

Perhaps this would be a good time for him to complete that survey on the new uniforms. Yes, he had definitely allowed that to wait too long, even if it was only a standardized form that had been sent randomly to twenty percent of the officers in the fleet. In addition, he had not yet read the latest article T'Pera had published on the propagation of hybrid soybeans in a low-gravity hydroponics bay. It was certain to be fascinating. He would request a bowl of soup from the replicator and catch up on his reading and paperwork.

...

Tugging on the bottom of her swimsuit, Uhura walked out of the locker room and found an empty lane in the pool. It was the end of a long day, and she was going to relish every moment of her swim. Pausing to share a smile with the person who was just climbing out next to her, she took a deep breath and dove into the water. Wonderful! The temperature was perfect, and she coasted underwater as far as she could in order to savor the cool silence of her peaceful environment.

When she finally broke the surface, she concentrated on settling into a steady crawl. The other end of the pool drew near, and she counted her strokes until she took a breath, tucked her head, and flipped for the return lap.

A monotonous rhythm established, she allowed her mind to wander. Where was Spock right now? For all she knew, he could be on the other side of that wall, working out with Admiral Kirk in the training room. Was he thinking about her? Although she'd been so busy on the bridge today that she had avoided the temptation to watch him, she had not been able to resist stealing an occasional covert glance during their midday meal. Maybe he'd been a little quieter than usual, but she really hadn't noticed a big change in his demeanor. Their eyes had even met for one long moment just before everyone rose to put away their trays, but he hadn't given her any clue as to what was on his mind.

She turned and started back again. He didn't show up at dinner, but that in itself wasn't entirely unusual. He divided his time among so many tasks that he sometimes went straight to the science labs after the end of his shift. She'd debated staying in her quarters tonight in case he decided that he was ready to talk, but in the end she figured that he would be able to find her if he really wanted. Plus, they usually didn't get together until later in the evening anyway, so she'd be back by then.

Beginning another lap, she decided that it was time to step up the pace and forget about everything but reaching the other side of the pool as quickly as possible. She'd be in her quarters soon enough, and she could think about him then.

...

Another morning. Once again, Spock stood in the turbolift and waited for it to open onto the bridge. She would already be at her station; she always was. Would she look up when he walked by? Would she be able to tell that he still had not come to a decision? Would he then see the hurt on her face that he was certain would follow? Maybe he would find anger. He could hardly blame her, if so.

The doors opened, and he walked past her. She glanced up and nodded at him, an uncertain smile on her lips, but quickly bent back to her board.

He squared his shoulders and continued to his chair. That had not been so difficult, or at least it had been no more difficult than yesterday. The next challenge would be to concentrate on his work, and he predicted that this problem would not be so easily overcome. Not only was he distracted by his dilemma, but last night he had once again been unable to achieve the desired level of meditation. He was exceedingly tired. He could do without sleep, but the mental turmoil was unquestionably beginning to wear on him.

As he called up yesterday's science reports and began to review them, he knew that he would have no choice but to spend his lunch break in his quarters and attempt to meditate.

...

Placing her lunch on the table, Uhura sat down next to Sulu. Everyone was there but Spock.

She tried her best to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Where's Spock? Isn't he coming?"

His attention on removing the pickles from his sandwich, Kirk replied, "He said that he was going to his quarters to rest."

McCoy frowned. "Is he sick?"

"He didn't act like it. Just tired."

"Well, keep an eye on him. You know that he'd practically have to be on his deathbed before he'd come to me."

"Yes, I'm watching him, or at least I'm trying to. I actually haven't seen much of him the past few days, and when we have been together, he's been distracted and not really there. I don't know what's going on."

Kirk looked up and met McCoy's eyes, and Uhura could see that his casual behavior was just an act.

McCoy studied Kirk for a moment. "Maybe he's just in one of his Vulcan moods."

"Could be."

The doctor paused, and then leaned forward and dropped his voice. "You don't think it's anything, uh, more serious, do you?"

"No."

"Well, that's a relief."

Uhura watched McCoy closely and was glad to see his concern evaporate. Spearing a bite of salad, though, she realized that her own concern wasn't going away so quickly. She'd known that this wouldn't be easy for Spock, but she'd never intended to put him in such a difficult position.

Maybe he was correct, and they weren't meant to be together. She put her fork down, no longer hungry.

...

Hugely relieved to be alone and back in his own quarters, Spock quickly changed from his uniform to his meditation robe and knelt before his firepot. The day had been interminable. It was time to end this.

He gazed into the flame and carefully emptied his mind. He had seen the pain in Uhura's expression late today, but he would not think of that. He missed the softness of her body next to his, but he would not think of that. If he were to rise and go to her now, she would greet him with a smile, but he would not think of that. His mind would be a blank slate, and only the most logical equations would be written upon it.

Ah. Finally, he felt himself sink into the first level. The effort had taken every iota of his mental energies, but he had done it. Now, he gently relaxed each muscle in his body and eased into the second level. His mind was so starved for this that the second level almost seemed to reach out and grasp him, and he was well ensconced within it before he even knew that he was there.

Gradually, his jumbled thoughts arranged themselves into crystalline, well-ordered progressions of mathematical precision. His body still cried out for food and sleep, but he easily moved those demands of the flesh into their own separate compartments and forged ahead. The deepest level was before him, its tranquillity a siren's call, and his consciousness streamed toward that refuge of utter serenity.

A whisper of triumph threatened to disrupt his carefully cultivated lack of self-awareness, but he quickly locked it away and continued forward. Suddenly, without even a ripple across the sea of his equanimity, he was there, and it was around him, surrounding him and welcoming him, and he saw. He saw everything. It was clear, so clear. Just as Nyota had surrounded him and welcomed him, his own mind gave him the comfort of peaceful acceptance. Just as he searched to find his own place in the macrocosm of the universe, there was a microcosm within himself that he had pushed aside and ignored.

From a faraway distance, his computer signaled that he had received a message, but it was not an interruption, for he had already found that for which he searched and was floating back up to self-awareness. He opened his eyes and immediately came to his feet, knowing before he had reached his computer what he would find.

Yes. He nodded. Transferring the message onto a data wafer, he shed his robe and was out the door before he had even completely fastened his jacket.

...

Comfortable in her usual place on the sofa, Uhura held a padd in her hands but didn't bother to turn it on. Her thoughts were in too much of an uproar, and it wasn't even worth the effort to pretend to read. When she had looked at Spock late this afternoon on the bridge and seen the strain on his face, the shadow across his calm countenance had darkened her own life accordingly. He was so obviously unhappy, this man who didn't have the defenses to deal with unhappiness, and it was all her fault.

What had she done? So confident in her hold over him, she had simply booted him out of her life and left him to figure it all out for himself. Of course she had understood that he might decide to end what they had together, but she had been so certain he wanted her that she had dismissed the idea with hardly a second thought. She'd been a fool-she knew Spock, and she knew that what he wanted and what he actually chose often didn't coincide. Self-denial was a way of life for him, the foundation of his most fundamental philosophies! He would give up something good and think that he was a better man for having done it.

Her eyes wandered to the door, and she remembered how she had frivolously wished for it to chime only days earlier. Now, though, she willed it to remain silent, for she was certain that the news it would herald would be the news she didn't want to hear.

As if to flaunt her arrogance, it chimed. She closed her eyes and felt her chest seize up with dread. It could only be Spock. He was making himself ill over this, and she wouldn't blame him for wanting to be rid of the entire mess.

She took a deep breath and rose.

"Come."

The door slid open, and just as she had expected, he stood before her. Gone was the confidence with which he had entered her quarters only three days earlier, and he made no move to come in. For a long moment neither spoke, but eventually he lifted his hand and she saw that he held a data wafer.

"I received a message from Saavik."

"Come on in."

She walked around the sofa and met him halfway between it and the door, and they stopped and studied one another. They were only two meters apart, but it seemed to her an unbridgeable gulf.

Finally, he transferred the data wafer to his left hand and held up his right. His movements deliberate, he folded his fingers until only the index and middle were extended, and he waited for her reaction. For a long moment, all she could do was stare stupidly, unable to comprehend what it meant, but when she tore her eyes away and looked at his face again, she saw resolve in his expression.

Yes, oh yes. Taking a tremendous breath, she crossed the gap between them and matched her own hand to his, and he was hot against her, she was trembling-why was she trembling?-but he was strong and sure, and the next thing she knew her hand was no longer touching his because her arms were around his shoulders and her face was pressed against his neck. She could feel the solidity of his arms when they slid around her back and pulled her tight, and her heart soared. He had chosen her. The decision had been hard-won, but it was done. Done!

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "I was so afraid that I had chased you away."

"I must confess that you almost did. The decision was not an easy one. I had allowed my vision to become obscured, but tonight I finally saw."

"Saw what?"

"That I am not alone. That my sense of connectedness to the All is satisfied not only by the broad identification of where I fit into the universe around me, but by the fulfillment of the needs within. That I had a void in my life, hidden until both you and Saavik revealed it to me. And that with you gone, a half-filled void was still a void."

She smiled. "That isn't quite as logical an explanation as I expected."

"Of course, there is a logical explanation as well. I was concerned over the amount of mental effort I devoted to thoughts of you when we were involved, but I found that it increased exponentially when we were not. Therefore, logically, if I was healthier and better adjusted when we were partners, it would stand to reason that I would be more efficient and therefore more of an asset to the ship if we were to resume our relationship."

"I knew I could count on you for a logical explanation."

He became serious again. "I hope you will understand that you can count on me to be steadfast and unwavering. I do not intend to back away from you again."

Blinking away sudden tears, she said, "Spock, it was unfair of me to make you struggle with this by yourself. I'd love to think that you'll never have any more doubts, but if you do, we'll work through them together. I told you that a certain amount of fear is normal, but doubts are, too. I guess I forgot that."

"Perhaps we both have much to learn."

"And it's logical to learn as much as possible, isn't it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, actually, it is. To cease our relationship would be to encourage stagnation, so you have uncovered another logical reason to continue."

"You know, if you stay a while I'll give you yet another. Maybe two."

"I have always maintained that one should pursue logic."

Taking the data wafer from his hand, she started toward the computer. "So would you like a cup of tea?"

"I am not thirsty."

"Do you want to see what Saavik has to say?"

"Not at the moment."

She grinned and studied the wafer for a second before tossing it onto the cushions of the sofa. "Then what _do_ you have in mind?"

"This."

Reaching out, he grasped her hand and pulled her into his arms. She had to tilt her head back to see him, but the softness on his face was unmistakable as he lowered his lips to her own. The kiss was slow and careful, not passionate or even particularly long, but she could tell that his intention was to convince her that he meant everything he had said.

Well, she was convinced. The hardness that was growing between them was pretty convincing, too. He moved his lips to her neck, and her knees began to feel like rubber.

She whispered in his ear. "Would you like to touch my mind tonight, Spock?"

"Yes, very much."

"Will you hold me close?"

"Absolutely."

She slipped out of his arms and took him by the hand, and together they walked back to her bedroom.

End story

The next story in this series is You Would Even Say She Glows.


End file.
